Murder House
by ahsfoxxay
Summary: Cordelia foxx and her husband Hank move into a new Victorian home in L.A. hoping for a fresh start. Foxxay murder house AU. Multi-chaptered fic.
1. Chapter 1

This was it. A new start—or that's at least what Hank had called it. But Cordelia knew this was really it. This was the last leg of her relationship with Hank and if this new house couldn't rekindle their love, than nothing could. If she was being honest, Cordelia knew exactly when their relationship had started to fall apart. It was the baby. More specifically her inability to have one. No matter how many doctor visits and fertility drugs she had taken, she just couldn't get her body to respond, to harbor life. There had been pregnancies, plenty, but each one had ended in a miscarriage, tearing away a bigger chunk of Cordelia's heart each time. So emotionally and physically, this new life, this new house in L.A., was quite literally Cordelia's last chance for the one thing she had wanted her entire life; a family. Buying a brand new house across country with the rest of their savings probably wasn't her best bet but she was desperate. And if her relationship with Hank ended than so be it, as long as she got a child out of this ordeal, Cordelia would be more than satisfied.

"Babe?"

Cordelia blinked lazily, Hank's voice interrupting her thoughts. "Hm?" She turned to face him, cars whizzing by as they turned off the highway.

"We're just about there," he peered over at Cordelia, his excitement evident in his eagerness to tug her hand across the divide, lacing their fingers together, "Just ten more minutes until our new life."

She flashed a genuine grin for the promise of finally escaping the cramped car more so than for the promise of her "new life" with Hank. The final minutes ticked by, Hank's subtle smirk transforming into a full blown smile, pearly whites on display.

"Here we are." The car groaned to a stop as he lifted Cordelia's hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to each knuckle. "The past is the past," he spoke softly, gesturing towards their new victorian home, "This is our future now."

Cordelia cringed, trying her best not to rip her hand away from Hank. "The past is the past." she stated, not indicating whether she agreed or not. Of course, she disagreed with him. Hank was only saying that to excuse his past, his cruelties and the way he treated her whenever he drank. But Cordelia could never forget, she would forgive for the sake of the child she so desperately wanted, but she would never forget how he whipped her around, drunkenly taking her against her will and claiming it was for "their child".

"Are you here with me?" He ran his thumb over her knuckles, kissing the top of her hand again.

Cordelia yanked her hand away, "Let's go inside." It was late; she was exhausted and the movers had already moved their furniture in. The last thing Cordelia wanted to do was play house with Hank. She slipped from the car, not bothering to turn back though she felt a twinge of guilt for being so cold towards her husband. A piece of her, deep down, still loved him or at least the way things used to be. They were young and in love, so absorbed in each other that getting married at the time had seemed like the only option. _But things change, people change _Cordelia reminded herself, walking up the steps to their new home. She knew she should have left him but the clock was ticking and if she was having trouble with conceiving now she would never be able to have a child in a few years.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" Hank jogged up the steps, catching up to Cordelia,"Marcy said the movers finished around three so everything should be all set up."

"It's a little too dark out to see," Cordelia squinted, raking her eyes up and around the building, trying to find the "old charm" Marcy, their real estate agent had promised. The hair on the back of her neck bristled, a shiver working it's way down her spine as a tuft of blonde curls flashed in the upper-right window—their bedroom window. "Hank!" Cordelia latched onto her husband, "Did you see that? There is someone in our room."

"Delia," Hank laughed, wrapping his arm around her, "I just told you the mover's finished. There is no one here but you and me." He rubbed her arm reassuringly, "You're just tired. Let's get inside and straight to bed. We can explore our new home tomorrow."

Cordelia ignored the sickness that overcame her whenever Hank touched her, allowing him to lead her into the house strictly for her safety.

"See?" He flicked on a light, waving his arm around the foyer, "No one but us."

The uneasy feeling lingered as Cordelia shrugged off Hank, leaving him to trail behind her as she ascended the steps. She could've sworn she was being watched. The floorboards creaked, complaining under her weight as she shuffled towards the bedroom. She stopped right in front of the door, "You go in first."

Hank grinned, "You scared?" He slipped past her, turning the knob and allowing the door to creak open. "Any ghosts in here? Casper the friendly Ghost?," he chuckled, feeling around the wall for a light switch, effectively illuminating their bedroom. "The coast is clear Delia. No ghosts or lost movers."

Cordelia sighed, brushing past Hank to flop on the bed, not even bothering to undress. "Hit the lights when you're done," she mumbled, burrowing into their blankets despite the stale scent lingering from the moving van. Sleep came easy, though as she drifted, Cordelia couldn't shake the thought that they weren't alone; blonde curls making a quick appearance in her dreams.

00000

The weekend blew by, Monday clearing away the uncertainty that came along with moving and bringing the promise of a steady routine.

"I'm off Delia," Hank sped through the kitchen, snatching a cup of coffee on his way out to work, "I know you didn't have time to check out your office this weekend but you should today. It would be a great place for your plants." He planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek, Cordelia not quick enough to pull away. "See you tonight." With that, Hank was off. The door slamming shut behind him, echoing through the empty halls.

Cordelia sat at the counter, happy to finally be alone and idly stirring her tea as she mulled over the tasks for today. Most of the work had been done over the weekend but there were still things to put away, laundry to be done, and boxes to be moved. Laundry. She would start there, that's easy enough. Folding, washing and hanging laundry didn't require thought, she could deal with that.

The washer hummed as the second load of laundry started, clothes swishing around the machine as Cordelia grabbed a basket filled with clean sheets, ready to be hung out to dry. She pushed open the backdoor with her hip, cradling the basket as she walked over towards the line. She had to admit, the backyard was beautiful. Honestly, so far, everything about the house had been beautiful. She allowed her mind to wander, bubbling with optimism while she hung the sheets. Maybe things would work out, she and Hank could have plenty of kids; the house was certainly big enough. She turned back, reaching into the basket for one more sheet, nearly yelping as a figure approached through the back of the yard.

"Can I help you?" Cordelia smoothed over her blouse nervously.

"I'm Misty Day. I'm the housekeeper." The young woman walked with a certain confidence, hips swaying as she approached. She fingered a plant as she walked, admiring it's leaves.

"Oh," Cordelia stumbled, uncharacteristically at a loss for words, "I, uh, didn't know the place came with a house keeper." She smiled, completely taken back by the beauty of the young woman in front of her.

Misty twirled her finger's around the same plant, "Why are ya hanging your sheets?"

Cordelia stared dumbly at Misty, the woman's words seeming to go in one ear and out the other. She couldn't stop her wandering eyes, gazing at the skimpy maid's outfit Misty wore. Her stomach twisted; the longer she stared the more Misty looked like something from a dirty fantasy.

Misty smirked and coughed, drawing Cordelia's attention. "There's a perfectly good electric dryer inside."

The older woman blushed, embarrassed that Misty had caught her staring—though she wasn't necessarily doing so discreetly. "I don't like all the chemicals from the fabric softeners so I just like to hang the sheets and do it naturally." She offered weakly and turned to pat down a sheet, doing anything she could to peel her eyes away from Misty.

Cordelia's obvious anxiousness just served to fuel Misty's confidence, a flirtatious grin spreading across her face. "I work Monday through Thursday. Thanksgiving on, Christmas off."

"Uhm—"

Misty cut Cordelia off, "That was the deal with the last owner's."

"I'm sorry, I just don't think we are going to need a housekeeper. We don't have kids...yet." Cordelia found herself anxiously playing with her hands, looking anywhere except at the woman in front of her.

Misty quirked a brow and licked her lips, Cordelia's heart nearly stopping. "What are ya usin' to clean the floorboards?" She tilted her head, eyebrow still arched, an amused expression on her face.

"Roofies oil soap."

Misty scrunched her face letting out a laugh that was barely audible. "Oh no, no," she tsked, "White vinegar. Oil soap kills the wood." She crossed her arms and dropped her hip, oozing confidence as if the house was practically hers.

"Well I like that," Cordelia met back Misty's stare, suddenly irked by the younger woman's smugness, "It's more natural."

"Have ya ever owned a house this old before?" She gestured towards the house with her chin, "It has a personality, feelings. Mistreat it and ya will regret it." She let out a sigh, flicking back her hair absently, "Can I come in? My cab left and I need ta call another."

Every part of Cordelia screamed at her to say no, to turn this woman away, but she found herself grabbing the basket and holding open the door for her; eyes involuntarily sinking down to peer at Misty's swinging hips as the housekeeper walked in.

0000

Cordelia brewed a fresh kettle of tea, steadily pouring herself and Misty a cup despite the slight tremble in her hand. She couldn't calm her nerves and the younger woman seemed to feed off of it, purposely brushing their hands together and holding eye contact uncomfortably long. It didn't help that Misty was breathtaking; she had blue-green eyes that pierced Cordelia and wild, blonde curls that seemed to fall perfectly into place despite being untamed._ Blonde Curls. Holy Shit. _Cordelia thought back to the first night in their new home; the woman she saw in the window had to be Misty. Suddenly struck with fear, Cordelia struggled to make small talk. "So, you cleaned house for the couple before us?"

"I've been the house keeper here for years, they come, they go, I stay. The men before you were a nice gay couple," she stirred her tea, eyes flicking up to look at Cordelia, "Do ya know anyone that's...gay?" Misty had lowered her voice, husking the last part.

Cordelia nearly choked on her tea, "Uh, yea sure. Some friends back in my old town, It's uh, a completely natural thing." She stared down at her hands, unable to meet Misty's eyes. Once she felt heat rising in her cheeks, she quickly changed the subject, "So what happened with them, I mean I hate to gossip but..."

"They fought a lot." Misty shrugged, taking a sip of her tea. "If ya ask me it's because they didn't have sex enough," she stared at Cordelia, biting her lip, "but who can know when something so horrible happens."

Cordelia struggled to find something to say, anything, but the sight of Misty, smirking and chewing on her bottom lip, stole away her words. She stared at the younger woman's lips, unconsciously leaning forward. "Yea," she murmured, "It was really terrible." Her eyes flickered down, peaking at Misty's top and down the unbuttoned collar, getting a glimpse of the housekeepers chest. Her heart hammered against her ribs, mouth dry. She knew she should stop but she drifted even closer, leaning on her elbows towards Misty across the counter. The air grew thick with a silence that was suddenly shattered by the slamming of a door. "Hank!" Cordelia scrambled to create space between her and Misty, even though there was already an island of granite between them.

"Hey Delia, I forgot my paperwork. First day, can you believe— who's this?"

"Hank, this is Misty Day the housekeeper for the previous owners," she let out a breath, grateful for Hank's distraction. "Misty, this is Hank," she peered at Misty, almost not wanting to add the title of husband after Hank's introduction, "my husband." The word and the way Misty smirked left a sour taste in her mouth.

"Well, hey," Hank stuck out his hand for a shake, "Nice to meet you. Listen, I just dropped by to get my papers but it was a pleasure."

"Oh no worries, I think I heard my cab anyway. I'll be going. Do ya mind if I use the restroom before?" Misty shook Hanks hand again and shot Cordelia a dazzling smile.

Cordelia nodded and felt herself blush, waiting until she was certain Misty had left before speaking. "So," she drew circles on the counter with her finger, suprised at how easily she could breath now that Misty was gone,"What do you think?

Hank let out a little laugh, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "You, uh, wanna hire her?" He couldn't see why Cordelia would hire a woman who looked well over 60 to clean a giant house. _How could that little old woman possibly clean the entire house by herself?_

"Yea," she tried to shrug nonchalantly, knowing fully well she should send Misty away, "She, uh, knows the house really well. Plus, it's a big house I could use the help." Cordelia nearly laughed at her own bullshit. A primal piece of her knew why she wanted Misty to stay though she dared not to think about it, let alone say it out-loud. Hank didn't have time to reply, the echo of the bathroom door announcing Misty's arrival. Cordelia turned to face her, "So, can you start tomorrow?"

"Thursday's better," she pursed her lips, "But for you, I'll make it work."

If Cordelia had blinked, she would've missed Misty wink at her. She turned, afraid Hank had seen something but her husband was preoccupied,shuffling through his papers.

"Great," Hank smiled, "And Misty? You know you don't need to wear the housekeepers uniform. You can just wear your regular clothes."

The playfulness in Misty's eyes returned as they moved from Hank to Cordelia. "I don't like cleaning peoples houses in my own clothes." She smoothed over her coat, peering at Cordelia as she turned on her heels and sauntered out of the house.

0000

Cordelia awoke to an empty bed, excited that since Hank had to go into work early she would have the morning to herself until the housekeeper arrived to clean. Reluctantly, she slipped out of her bed, immediately missing the warmth of her blankets. Her muscles groaned as she walked towards the bathroom, still stiff with sleep. Normally, Cordelia showered at night but a hot shower sounded too good to pass up; the ache in her lower-back throbbing in agreement. She turned on the hot water, shedding her clothes when she heard the tell-tale creak of the floorboards down the hall. Fear seeped into her veins; She was supposed to be the only one home. Grabbing her razor out of the shower, Cordelia padded out of her room, looking around the empty halls. There were too many doors to search, there was no way she would find anyone. Just as Cordelia was about to chalk to sounds up to her imagination, she spotted something unusual; a door cracked open. It was a sliver barely wide enough to let light shine through but nonetheless, it was still open. She gripped the end of her razor, shuffling towards the open door and trying her best to stay silent. Her heart raced as she grabbed the handle and flung the door open. Her razor fell to the ground with a clatter as she stood paralyzed to the sight before her.

Misty sat in the empty room, laying back in a recliner, squirming and whining as she played with herself. Her legs were spread, resting on the arms of the chair, giving Cordelia the perfect view.

The older woman swallowed thickly unable to tear her eyes away. She watched, enthralled, as Misty's finger's teased. She was breathing heavily now, barely able to bite back a groan as Misty pushed aside her panties. _God, she's so wet._ Cordelia couldn't help but let out a little desperate whimper, dying to do more than watch. _  
_

Misty moaned, arching and grabbing onto the back of the chair to steady herself.

What felt like hours were really a matter of seconds and when Cordelia finally locked eyes with Misty, she blinked, breaking free from dreamy haze that had fallen over her. She tore herself away, sprinting back to the bathroom and locking the door behind her. "Oh god, oh god." Cordelia cradled her head in her hands, sliding down against the door. _What the fuck, Cordelia!? _By now, the bathroom was cloaked in a thick fog of steam, the shower continuing to spew out hot water. She got up off the floor and into the shower, seeking refuge under the spray of the shower-head. No matter how hard she tried, Cordelia couldn't get the image of Misty out of her head. She swore she could still hear her panting and whimpering. It was too much, her core was aching, crying out for release. She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the wall as she snuck a hand between her legs. Her finger's worked quickly and within a matter of minutes she was trembling, whimpering softly as images of Misty danced behind her eyelids. Just the thought of the housekeeper sending her over the edge. The buzz of the shower easily drowned out her cries of pleasure and the cries of pain that soon followed after. Cordelia was weak and she knew it. Her shoulders shook with every sob as she cried, tears mingling with the water still falling overhead. She thought about giving in, going back to that room and taking Misty right on the couch, and she cried even harder. Tears ran down her face not because of what just happened but because she knew that next time, she would not be nearly as strong. It was only a matter of time before she gave into Misty.


	2. Chapter 2

The days crawled by agonizingly slow, Cordelia tip-toeing around every corner, afraid in her own house. Terrified that behind every door Misty would be waiting for her. It seemed like the first time in years, she took solace in when Hank was home, sticking close to his side and dreading whenever he left in the morning. When Hank left, she was alone and a helpless prey in Misty's tortuous game of cat and mouse. She wasn't sure what was worse, the waiting and anxiety or the insatiable lust that tugged at her stomach every time she did so much as think about the housekeeper. No, that was not the worst part. The worst part was that she knew apart of her wanted to see Misty again despite the fact that she cowered whenever she heard the woman cleaning downstairs. This had gone too far. Cordelia had to get Misty off her mind and when she rolled out of bed that morning she decided the best way to do that would be by setting up her new office.

"See you tonight Delia," Hank planted a kiss on her forehead and left, leaving her sighing heavily and trudging up the steps to pour herself into her office.

She opened the door, letting out a breath when she found it was empty. This was so silly. She shouldn't be afraid to open doors in her own home. Cordelia let out a laugh, already feeling better in the company of all her plants. They were lined up against the windows, soaking in the sun—Cordelia called it "her office" but in reality the room would serve as a greenhouse until they settled in enough to get a real one. She wiped her clammy palms against her tee, drying them to slide on a pair of gloves and grab her tools. She hummed softly as she worked, tending to her plants, watering them and clipping the overgrown leaves. The sun shone beautifully through the window as Cordelia worked, bringing a smile to her face. She inhaled deeply, feeling calm for the first time since the move. Her false sense of security was shattered as she heard the door to her office creek open.

"May I clean in here?" Misty stood in the doorway holding a pail of cleaning supplies loosely in her hands.

Cordelia turned, letting out a shaky breath—this was the first time she had seen Misty since walking in on her. "This isn't a good time Misty." Her eyes contradicted her words, trailing over Misty's body. She couldn't help it. The little maids outfit that Misty wore drove her wild. She could stare at Misty's legs for days and the fact that they were concealed in thigh highs undoubtably being held up by a garter belt made her stomach twist.

"It's thursday. I get off in 20 minutes. If I don't do it now, it's not getting done until Monday." She didn't wait for a reply, placing down her bucket and withdrawing a duster. When Cordelia didn't stop her, she began to slink around the room, barely even cleaning. She flicked the duster once, more interested in Cordelia watching her than dusting.

Cordelia could barely breathe. It seemed that no matter what Misty did, she emitted an overpowering sexual energy. Even the slightest twitch of her hand was enough to make Cordelia's mouth go dry.

"Am I distracting you?" Misty questioned innocently, tilting her head and quirking a brow.

Cordelia didn't answer, tightening the grip on her tools and turning back to her work. She jumped, letting out a little yelp when she felt Misty's hand pinch her ass. Her tools made a thump as they hit the ground, Cordelia dropping everything and spinning quickly to face Misty. The angry words and slurs got trapped in her throat the second she saw the housekeeper.

Misty stood about a foot away, toying with the collar of her shirt; cleaning supplies long forgotten. She popped the buttons, revealing a black lace bra. "Why don't ya touch me a little?" She cupped her chest, the flesh of her breast spilling over as she closed the distance between them.

"Get out," Cordelia croaked, her voice shaking as she let out her last, desperate plea. Her heart pounded, lower-belly burning as Misty cupped her chest.

"What are ya afraid of?" Misty husked, nearly fucking Cordelia with her eyes, "Your husbands not home. He's at work." She twirled a curl around her finger, "I won't tell." Misty smirked, watching Cordelia nearly drool at her chest. She reached down, snapping free the button that held up her stockings.

"Oh God," Cordelia whimpered, eyes locked on Misty's every movement.

Misty shifted closer, "I didn't tell when ya saw me playing with myself the other day."

Cordelia held her hands up as if to fend Misty off. "Please," she begged, using the last of her resolve, "Please just go." She didn't think—no she knew, she wouldn't last if Misty got any closer. Would she really give up everything for lust? That was a question she didn't want to answer.

Misty closed the last few inches, trapping Cordelia against the wall. She leaned in, breathing heavily against the older woman's ear, "Did ya touch yourself after?"

"Please," it was barely a whisper, Cordelia breathless at the feel of Misty against her, "Just go." She was dizzy with desire, mind reeling as she felt Misty's hot breath tickling her ear.

Misty smirked, pressing harder against Cordelia, "Ya did." She rolled her hips into Cordelia's, running her hands over the woman's body. Grabbing Cordelia's hand she whispered,"Do it again," she slowly led Cordelia's hand down, "Show me."

Cordelia whimpered as Misty guided her hand, giving in completely. Her eyes fluttered shut, body tensing in preparation when suddenly Misty pulled away; a chime ringing throughout the house.

"That's the end of my shift," the clock finished ringing, signaling the end of the hour. She pressed a chaste kiss to Cordelia's cheek, grinning smugly. "I'll see you on Monday Mrs. Foxx." Misty took her time sauntering back to the door, an extra swing in her hips. She bent down to grab her supplies, lingering in the position long enough for Cordelia to catch a glimpse of what usually hid beneath the hem of her dress.

By the time Cordelia had realized what happened, Misty was sliding through the door to leave for the weekend. She wanted to chase after Misty and shove the younger woman up against the wall for playing with her. Instead she trembled, tears sliding down her cheeks when the glamour and lust of the situation had faded away. She had almost given up a fresh start and her dream of a child. Shaking her head, Cordelia picked her tools up off the ground and did the only thing she knew how to do—tend to her plants.

0000

Cordelia had spent the entire day working furiously in her office, building up a sweat as she hefted the heaviest plants up on their shelves after watering them. She was so absorbed in her work, trying desperately to forget Misty, that she barely heard Hank walk in after his day at work.

"Delia?"

Cordelia flinched startled after hours of silence. "Hank," she let out a sigh of relief, "I thought you weren't done until late tonight?"

"My last patient bailed," he shrugged, "You've done wonders to this room though." He waved his arms, gesturing to all the plants.

Cordelia smiled. He was right; she had done wonders. The dingy old office was filled with life after just hours of hard work— of course she wouldn't tell him what had motivated her. "Thanks," she placed down her tools, "I think I'm just about done for the day too."

"Do you want some help cleaning up?"

"Yea," Cordelia grinned, tossing off her gloves, "Thanks." They danced around each other, silently sweeping up crumbs of dirt or clipped leaves that had fallen to the ground.

Hank stopped for a second to admire his wife. "I always thought you were prettiest like this. No make up. Messy hair. Little sweaty."

Cordelia initially smiled, bashfully staring at the ground. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine it being like the first few years of their marriage, filled with love and little compliments like this, but as she dusted the last of the dirt off her hands she remembered that Hank was not the same man she had married all those years ago—_She_ was not the same person she was all those years ago. "I'm old," she frowned slightly, turning her back.

"Stop," Hank shoved his hands in his pockets, smiling as he shuffled over to Cordelia, "You're beautiful." When Cordelia gazed at the floor her reiterated,"You are." He walked right up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Cordelia tensed up when Hank molded against her back, thinking of how Misty had touched her like that just hours ago. "Hank," she murmured grabbing his wrists.

"We have the house to ourselves," he whispered, burying his face in Cordelia's neck.

"Hank," Cordelia rose her voice, tugging at his arms, "No." She leaned away from his touch, wrenching herself out of his grasp," No Hank." His arms fell weakly to his sides as He backed off just a little. "Im sorry," she peered at him quickly. "It's just," she waved her hand," it's just— no." She slid past him, anxiously tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The silence grew awkward; the air heavy with uncomfortable tension.

"How long?" Hank questioned, barely above a whisper.

"What?"

Hank grabbed a plant, throwing it on the ground angrily; the pot shattering, shards flying in all directions. "How long are you going to punish me for?!" He screamed, the vein in his forehead throbbing as his face flushed with anger.

"I'm not punishing you, you narcissistic asshole!" It didn't take Cordelia long to reciprocate the anger coming off of Hank in waves. "I'm trying to learn how to forgive you for abusing me!" She raised her voice, her temper getting the best of her. " You want me to have sex with you?! I can't even look at you Hank!"

"I screwed up!" Hank screamed, his voice cracking with intensity," How many times do I have to say it?! I'm sorry!" He ran his hands through his hair, breathing heavily. "You know I didn't just get drunk every night until I passed out for fun," he pointed at his chest," I was hurting too!"

"Oh I'm sorry, did the life that was growing inside you die?" She screamed; the memories making her cringe.

"My son died too Delia. My baby!"

"Oh, so you buried your sorrows in the bottom of a bottle and than thought hey, let me treat my wife like shit that will make everything better!" Cordelia was trembling now, beyond anger and bordering on fury.

"You know I can show you statistics of how many men turn to alcohol after a miscarriage. I tried to be there for you. Understanding, caring." With each word, Hank shook his hands wildly. "I put your," he jabbed his finger at Cordelia," feelings in front of mine!"

"My hero." Cordelia shook her head, eyes stinging with the threat of tears. She wouldn't let Hank make her feel guilty for his actions. She was done with the guilt-trips he constantly threw on her whenever they fought.

"You know," Hank flailed his hands, "I don't even know how to say this without being an asshole."

"Oh god ahead," Cordelia felt tears streaming down her face, "It never stopped you before. I think we've established that you don't need alcohol to be an asshole. Six months in therapy of you crying and apologize and swearing you're going to change was bullshit!"

"You buried yourself in your goddamn plants," Hanks bottom lip was quivering as he struggled to control himself, "I needed you and you hid yourself away in that fucking greenhouse!"

Cordelia let out a laugh, opening her mouth to retort with a sarcastic comment but was quickly cut off.

"It should've been me you were spending all your time with." He jabbed at himself to reinforce his words, "Not some fucking plants."

"Oh so calling me cruel names and pushing me around was revenge because I wasn't there for you in your time of need?!" Her throat was began to ache from all the screaming but she pushed aside the pain, her anger overpowering it, "Now I get it!"

"We haven't had sex in almost a year."

"Yea, you think I don't know that?"

"October 20." Hank scratched at his beard, "We had great sex Delia. It was loving and sexy and passionate." The memory hit Cordelia like a pound of bricks; Hank was right. That was the last time she was happy with their relationship, from there it had all gone downhill. "I love you," Hank rasped, his voice gravelly with emotion,"I moved across country for you. For us. For the family we wanted." He stepped closer to Cordelia, his voice softening, "Something horrible happened to us but we handled even more horribly."

Cordelia felt Hank reached for her hand and she pulled away, covering her face to hide the tears sliding down her cheeks.

"This place is our second chance, Delia. Our second chance." Hank blinked away tears, "But I just need to know that you want it too. " He reached forward, tucking Cordelia's hair behind her ears and cupping her face as he waited for a reply.

Cordelia, angered by the gesture Hank had meant to be endearing, pushed against her husbands chest without a word. She shoved at him, forcing him back a foot.

"What are you doing?"

She stepped forward, palms flat against his chest as she used her strength to push him back again.

"Delia." Hank balanced himself, completely taken off guard by this aggressive side of Cordelia he had never seen before. She came at him again but this time Hank grabbed her wrist, fending off the blow. "Stop," he grunted as Cordelia struggled in his arms, "W-what are you doing?" He grabbed at her, tugging at any thing he could to get her under control.

"Ow," Cordelia groaned as Hank threaded his fingers through her hair, jerking her face up to look at him. In that moment, Cordelia felt a burning anger traveling through her body, the scuffle reminding her of her encounter with Misty, and in a fit rage mixed with leftover arousal she crushed their lips together. She kissed Hank hard, letting him push her back onto the couch. A sick feeling grew in her gut, remembering the last time Hank had touched her like this, but she ignored it angrily tearing at his pants. In a matter of seconds they were completely tangled up in each other, clothes thrown to the ground. Cordelia squeezed her eyes shut as Hank began to touch her; the only thing making the feel of his grimy hands bearable was Cordelia's ability to pretend that it was someone else touching her—that it was Misty touching her.


	3. Chapter 3

The sun seeped lazily through the blinds, illuminating particles of dust that seemed to wink at Cordelia as she awoke. A grin languidly crept across her face when she felt strong arms around her. She turned sleepily, half expecting to see a mess of blonde curls, frowning when she was met with Hank instead. The memories of friday played through her head, deepening her frown into a full-blown scowl. She felt sick. Slowly she untangled herself from Hank, careful not to wake him, and slipped out of bed towards the bathroom. Without a second thought, she turned on the shower and shed her clothes, stepping into the hot water. She washed hastily, trying to scrub Hank from her body, cringing when she saw small bruises by her hip. She hated the fact that Hank had marked her, forcing her to remember friday night for at least a week when all she wanted to do was forget. Saturday she spent all day avoiding him, hoping he would get the message but he persisted, stuck in his own world where that one primitive act had saved their marriage. She stayed in the shower until the hot water turned cold, coming out to find Hank still asleep, snoring soundly. Dressing quickly and silently, she tip-toed down the steps, careful to be quiet and not wake Hank so as to get as much alone time as possible. She shuffled into the kitchen, unsatisfied with the options for breakfast and decided on going to the store. Knowing Hank would be angry if he woke up and she was gone, Cordelia left a tiny note on the counter, _Gone to the store be back soon -D._

000

Cordelia trudged back into the house, balancing various grocery bags as she tossed her keys on the counter. She set down the bags, rummaging through them, back turned, when suddenly a shrill laugh echoed down the halls. The piercing laugh made Cordelia jump, everything falling from her hands. She spun, gasping when she saw that despite the fact that her kitchen was empty, every drawer, cabinet and even the fridge had been flung open. Before she had time to even process the mess in front of her, another fit of giggles flooded the halls, this time instantly recognizable—Adelaide.

She followed the sound to the back door, not surprised to girl in a fit of laughter. "What are you doing?!" Adelaide just laughed harder. "Why are you in my house?!" Cordelia grabbed the girl by the wrist, leading her into the kitchen and pulling out her phone to call Constance.

000

"I want you to stay out of my house, do you understand?" Cordelia finished closing the rest of the open drawers, walking around the island where both Constance and Adelaide sat.

"Can I smoke in here?" Constance sat uninterested, a cigarette between her fingers.

"No."

Constance flicked her lighter in annoyance but put away her cigarette.

"Adelaide answer me please." Cordelia waited, hand on hip and eyes brows furrowed like they always did when she was agitated. She was met by an impatient sigh from Constance. "Adelaide," Cordelia tried not to raise her voice, not wanting to bring Hank in from upstairs, "I want you to stop coming in my house without permission. I want you to stop coming in here and opening everything up and telling me I'm going to die." She tried her best to be patient but this was the second time Adelaide had showed up in her house, not to mention the times Constance came in uninvited.

Constance reached out, tucking a hair behind Adelaide's ear affectionately. "Don't worry, this is the last time. I wouldn't want her walking in on one of your little trysts with that trampy maid."

Cordelia felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. "Excuse me?"

"Things don't stay secret for very long in this house," she fiddled with her purse, "Of course I know you haven't slept together...yet." She laughed knowingly, "But it's only a matter of time. A little bit of warning from me to you, she's not who you think she is you know. She's got quite a backstory." A wicked grin curled around her face as she stood up from her stool, "I think it's time for us to go, come on Addy."

"No," Cordelia intercepted their path, struggling to find words, panic setting in. "H-how?" How could Constance have possibly known?

"Oh dear," Constance patted her cheek condescendingly, "I'd love to chat but I'm afraid Addy and I have to go." She tried to slip past but Cordelia stepped in front of her again.

Cordelia was frantic, looking for some type of leverage. She had to know what Constance knew. "You owe me," she stood her ground, "I know you've been taking silverware from me. Tell me and I won't do anything about it." A satisfied smirk crossed her face when she saw Constance scowl.

"Fine, come to my house tomorrow morning. I have a friend who will tell you all about your little," her face scrunched in disgust, "side-project. Shall you be bringing Hank?" She flashed a devilish smile.

"I'll see you tomorrow." She ignored Constance's remark though she felt herself blushing as she stepped out of the way.

Constance stopped just before shepherding Addy out of the door, "You know Cordelia, sometimes it's better just not to ask questions because when you do, you might find you don't always like the answer."

000

The rest of Cordelia's Sunday was a blur of mechanic interaction with Hank and when she awoke on Monday, she was filled with a mix of anxiety and excitement. Whether it was because Misty would be back at work or because she would finally learn more about her she couldn't tell. She dressed quickly and made her way downstairs, counting the seconds until Hank left for work. As soon as he left, Cordelia slipped out the backdoor, following the path that led from her house to Constance's. She rapped on Constance's back door, shifting her weight anxiously.

Constance answered, offering her a nod and tight smile as she led her in. "Cordelia Foxx, meet Billie Dean Howard." Cordelia gave her a quick smile, confused as to why the woman's presence was necessary for their meeting. Constance let out a laugh, "The woman has no manners," she shook her head, "Billie is a gifted medium. She's going to shed some light on the situtation."

Cordelia peered at the woman, unable to stop herself from laughing uncomfortably, "Uh," she cleared her throat, "Why do we need a medium?"

Billie Dean took out a cigarette, leaning forward as Constance flicked out her lighter. She lazily took a drag, "You might want to take a seat." She gestured to the chair before her, the last wisps of smoke escaping her mouth as she spoke.

Cordelia frowned lightly but obliged, pulling out the chair as Billie Dean admired her nails. "Okay, I'm sitting..." she tangled her hands in her lap, anxiously bouncing her leg as Constance joined them at the table, bringing them each a cup of tea.

"That maid of yours is dead," Billie Dean spoke nonchalantly, flicking the ash off of her cigarette before taking another drag. Her eyes narrowed as Cordelia laughed, "You think I'm kidding? She's dead. A spirit."

"Uh," Cordelia nervously chewed on her lip when she saw she was the only one laughing, "You're serious? This can't be real." She got up from her chair only to be pushed back down by Constance's hand on her shoulder.

The older woman took a sip of tea, "I assume you're a smart woman Cordelia, so how is it you can you be so arrogant as to believe there is only one reality you're able to see?"

"I don't believe it," she shook her head. "She's alive...I-I've," she blushed, remembering Misty's body pressed up against hers, "I've felt her, touched her." Cordelia felt like her mind was reeling; Constance had to be playing a sick joke on her.

"Ah, but that house," Constance vaguely pointed to Cordelia's house, "Will make you a believer. Haven't you felt it? The spirits?"

Cordelia laid her head in her hands trying to make some sort of sense of the thoughts swirling around her mind. She had felt it; like there were eyes always watching her, constantly getting shivers as though someone was breathing down her neck.

"You're confused, overwhelmed," Billie Dean snubbed out her cigarette, tendrils of smoke swirling into the air, "I get it. That's why I'm here."

"How?" Cordelia spoke, her words muffled through her hands, "How is she still here?"

"There are some who have an understandably violent and vengeful reaction to being murdered and they can't move on until they get there revenge. Then there are others, like Misty, who are stuck. She can't move on because there is something keeping her there, in that house. What's keeping her there, I'm not sure." Constance fidgeted uneasily, knowing fully well why Misty was stuck; she had killed her when she found her running around with her husband and now Misty's bones were buried in the backyard, keeping her there.

Cordelia looked up, eyes flickering between Constance and Billie Dean, "This has to be a set up." She scoffed, glaring at Constance, "Very funny. You got your revenge, keep the damn silverware."

"Who is Myrtle?" Billie Dean reached forward cradling Cordelia's hands in her own, "Does that name mean anything to you?"

Cordelia froze, goosebumps rising up her arms at the name. She couldn't help but feel tears sting her eyes as she thought about the woman who had truly been her mother before she passed.

"My sweet baby bird..." Billie Dean spoke softly, tilting her head, "Is that what she called you? your mother?"

"I- No," Cordelia shook her head, tears trickling down her face, "I can't do this." She excused herself from the table and left through the back door without another word to either of the woman. She couldn't help but feel angry as she kicked up leaves, walking back to her house. She didn't sign up for any of this. If she would've just left Hank, none of this would've happened. She hated this house, she hated Hank, and she hated everything about this new start. Angrily, she ripped open her door, only to have her anger intensified upon seeing Misty on all fours, "cleaning" the kitchen floor.

Misty looked over her shoulder upon hearing the door open, "Hi Mrs. Foxx." She emphasized the Foxx, biting her lip and arching a brow.

Cordelia tried to ignore her, hands balled into tight fists as she walked around Misty. She brewed herself a cup of tea and even though her back was turned to Misty, the younger woman still managed to get her attention, humming softly. The throaty rumble of Misty humming only served to piss her off more. She turned, tea in hand, ready to straight up fire Misty but the words caught in her throat. It seemed that every time she saw her, the hem of Misty's dress got shorter and now with her on all fours, Cordelia could see everything; the black panties she saw stealing away her words. "You should really get a longer uniform," she muttered, gripping her cup of tea just a bit too hard.

"Why," Misty wriggled her bottom coyly, looking over at Cordelia,"Ya don't like it?"

"No," Cordelia nearly growled, placing her tea on the counter and taking two strides over to Misty, "Get out." She pointed at the door, "Now."

Misty stood up and pouted. "Did Constance get your panties in a twist?" She leaned into Cordelia, drawing a finger down her sternum, "Because ya know I can untwist them."

"Get away from me," Cordelia pushed against Misty's chest, fighting against the urge to actually pull her closer.

"Mmm," Misty fell back a few steps but came right back, grinning wildly at the reaction she was getting from Cordelia,"I like it rough."

"Shut up." she went again to push Misty but the younger woman was quicker, grabbing Cordelia's wrists and spinning them around to push her against the wall, trapping her there. Cordelia hit the wall hard, letting out a groan.

"Ya look real sexy when you're mad Cordelia," Misty purred into her ear, holding her wrists against the wall.

"Let go," Cordelia grunted even though she barely fought against Misty's grip. She shivered, lower belly burning when Misty's hot breath hit the sensitive shell of her ear.

"Or what?" Misty grinned wickedly, "Ya gonna kill me?" Her smile grew at the mortified expression she received from Cordelia. She wiped the expression from the woman's face, pecking her quickly on the lips.

Cordelia blinked, shocked and breathless from that little kiss. It was the only thing that had felt right since she got to this new house. _Fuck Hank, Fuck this house, Fuck constance. _She ripped her hands from Misty's grasp, only to tangle them in the younger woman's hair, tugging her in for a harsh kiss.


	4. Chapter 4

Cordelia struggled with Misty, trying to keep their lips connected while stumbling up the steps. From the second she had kissed Misty, a mere minute ago, she had known she wouldn't want anything else for the rest of her life. Hank just wouldn't do. She didn't even feel guilty, being with Misty for two minutes had felt more right than her entire marriage. After they clambered up the steps, everything else was a blur; Cordelia devoting herself to Misty's kisses now that they were on a flat surface. She let Misty lead her to the bedroom, groaning when her head hit the door with a thump. The pain quickly disappearing when Misty moved to her neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin.

"Don't," Cordelia panted, hands trying to pull Misty away, "Don't mark me. Hank will see."

"Ya think I give a fuck about Hank," she bit particularly hard, soothing the sting with her tongue, "I was waitin' for ya to make the first move and now that ya did, you're mine."

The words made Cordelia whimper and she tugged on Misty's hair, desperately needing to kiss the girl. They were heady, open-mouthed kisses that made Cordelia squirm, her lower belly burning as Misty's hands skirted across her thighs. "Bedroom," she managed between kisses. "Now," she demanded, biting Misty's bottom lip.

Misty smirked, pulling Cordelia away from the door and flush against her. She reached out, twisted the knob and threw open the door, quickly spinning Cordelia and ushering her in with a few pinches to the hip. "Get on the bed."

Cordelia eagerly scrambled onto the bed, shrugging off her shirt in the process and throwing it at Misty with a grin. This felt so natural and easy yet passionate and sexy. Sex with Hank was never so effortless. She gasped as Misty joined her on the bed, immediately catching her in a deep kiss. Cordelia ran her hands up and down Misty's back, urging her on. She wanted Misty to take her, make her her's; she had wanted that ever since the first day she saw her.

Misty's hands wandered, caressing and tugging at fabric, desperate to feel all of Cordelia. She broke away from the woman's lips, moving to her neck and toying with the clasp of Cordelia's bra. The moan Cordelia let out when she nibbled her neck made Misty's stomach twist; she needed so much more of the older woman. Cordelia was different than her others. After spending decades in this house, she had had plenty of love affairs. For Misty, it was all about the chase, breaking down their resolve and watching them crumble beneath her fingertips. But as she ran her fingers over Cordelia's skin, nipping at the freckles dotting the woman's chest somehow she knew Cordelia had gotten to her in a way the others hadn't.

"Fuck." Cordelia groaned after bite to her collarbone. Misty had been teasing her since the day the moved in, she couldn't wait any longer. She threaded her hands through Misty's hair, trying to coax her downward. "Please."

Misty chuckled lightly, "Beggin already?" She dipped her head, placing a light kiss right above Cordelia's navel before unclasping the bra her fingers had been paying with and tossing it to the side. A shaky breath made its way out out of her throat. She had meant to tease Cordelia, play with her, but seeing the woman's bare chest was too much. She leaned down, taking a nipple between her teeth and tweaking the other with her fingers.

"Oh!,"Cordelia responded immediately, arching her back to meet Misty's mouth. "Oh," she murmured again; the word coming out as more of a moan when Misty raked her teeth over the peak of Cordelia's breast.

Misty made sure to leave hickies against Cordelia's chest before coming back up to kiss the older woman, her hand going the opposite direction to cup Cordelia through her pants. She teasingly rubbed up against the fabric, following the pace that Cordelia's twitching hips soon set. "Tell me how bad ya want it," she whispered, unbuttoning Cordelia's pants to play with the woman's clit through the soaked fabric of her underwear.

Cordelia let out a whine, pressing her hips up to insist against Misty's hand. "So, so badly," she rested her hands on around Misty's neck, desperately trying to pull her in for another kiss. "Please," she begged when she felt Misty resisting.

"No," Misty bit at her jaw harshly, climbing down Cordelia's body to remove her pants. She pulled down her jeans, kissing everything inch of thigh that was revealed each time she tugged on the fabric. She looked up, making eye contact as she nipped the inside of Cordelia's thigh.

"Fuck, Misty," shes squirmed, kicking off the last of her pants, "I said don't mark me."

"Say that one more time and I'll leave ya right here." To prove her point, Misty dug her nails into Cordelia's hips, holding her down as she sucked at the sensitive skin of Cordelia's inner thigh.

Cordelia threw her head back, moaning and tangling her hands in Misty's hair despite herself. Her hips rolled heavily up into Misty's face, looking for relief as the young woman continued to bite and kiss so close to her aching center. "Misty," she groaned, pulling roughly at Misty's hair, "Come on."

"One last thing." Misty crawled back up Cordelia's body, peppering her with kisses when she was satisfied with the marks she left. She hovered over Cordelia's mouth, brushing their lips together as she toyed with the band of Cordelia's underwear. "Why did ya wait so long?"

"I- Fuck," it was hard to form any sort of coherent though when Misty was so close to her, "I-I don't know."

"Mmm," she moved to nibble Cordelia's ear, "I think ya do. I came on to ya plenty of times and ya said always said no. Tell me why I should even get ya off."

Cordelia struggled to think with Misty humming in her ear, "I was scared but I've always, shit, I-I've always wanted you. Since I moved in the house," she sucked in a breath when Misty's fingers hooked into her waistband, "Since I saw you."

Misty, satisfied with Cordelia's answer, finally allowed their lips to collide. It was a bruising kiss, the kind that would have left Cordelia reeling if Misty's hand hand't snuck into her underwear at the same time. Immediately, Cordelia's hips shot up to meet Misty's hand and the younger blonde let out a satisfied hum when she was met with wetness.

Cordelia rocked against Misty's hand, creating a steady motion and moaning softly every time Misty circled her clit. "Misty," she murmured, looking a the woman with a hooded gaze, "Please." The word please bounced around her head. She had said it so many times since meeting Misty, _Please just go, Please don't , Please, I can't, _but now the desperate plea was being said for a different reason. Her head fell back against the pillows as her underwear were slipped off, the only thing she could feel, hear or smell was Misty Day.

0000

Misty fell back onto the pillows huffing out a breath as she peered at Cordelia, a smile crawling across her face. "You okay?" Unconsciously, she rolled onto her side to face the woman, reaching out a hand to tangle her fingers with Cordelia's.

Cordelia let out a shaky breath, chest still heaving and hips twitching,"Yea," she murmured, nodding lightly and squeezing Misty's hand. It was strange to hold Misty's hand, so intimate, something that lovers would do. The strangest part being that it felt right. They sat in silence, their gentle breathing filling the room as Misty's thumb stroked her knuckles. The silence was overwhelming and Cordelia had the strongest urge to break it. "Why?"

"Why what?" Misty looked at Cordelia, tilting her head in question.

"Why did you come after me?" She avoided the blondes gaze, suddenly hit with the weight of everything that had happened, her conversation with Constance, sleeping with Misty, everything.

"Well," Misty bit her lip, trying to word her sentence carefully," I liked you. I like you." She shrugged simply, laying on her back and staring up at the ceiling.

Cordelia frowned despite the extra flutter in her heart brought on by Misty's words. This was wrong. She was married, although unhappily, still married. Not to mention Misty was a ghost. _A ghost._ Her stomach twisted and the words came out before she could stop them, "Constance told me you're dead."

Misty sat up, that cocky grin plastered back across her face, all previous signs of softness gone. "Well you're a real subtle one aren't ya?" She got up from bed, grabbing her scattered clothes on the ground, "That's true. I'm a spirit I guess." She picked up the last of her clothes,"but instead of comin' into your room and hauntin' ya, I'll just give ya really great sex." Misty snickered, enjoying Cordelia's flustered expression.

Cordelia let out a little laugh despite herself and the somber topic of conversation. She let out a sigh shortly after, running her fingers through her hair and peaking at the clock,"Hank is going to be home soon."

"I got it," Misty began to get dressed, "I'll get outta your hair." She walked over to the edge of the bed. "But this won't be the last time, yea?" She tipped Cordelia's chin just a little, catching her in a deep kiss and pulling away with a grin. "See ya later Mrs. Foxx." With that, Misty was gone, leaving Cordelia breathless and forced to find some way to hide the remains of the wild blonde scattered across her body.

000

"Hey babe," Hank clambered in through the door, late and stinking of scotch.

Cordelia played with the collar of her shirt, pulling it a little higher. "Hank?" She scrunched her face in distaste, "Are you drunk?" She shouldn't have even asked, she knew the answer.

"No, babe, relax," he tossed his bag onto the counter, moving to wrap his arms around her waist.

"Hank," she shrugged him off moving to the other side of the counter, "You said you wouldn't drink when we moved out here." Cordelia crossed her arms, frowning, "I'm going to bed. Don't bother following me. You can sleep on the couch." She began to walk out of the kitchen only to have Hank grab her wrist.

"Baby," he hiccuped, eyes glazed over, "Don't do this."

Cordelia snorted in disgust, yanking her hand away. "Goodnight, Hank." She walked to the stairs, not bothering to spare Hank a glance over her shoulder as she ascended into her room, such a bitter ending to what started out as a great day. Her bedroom door groaned as it swung open, Cordelia slipping through and clicking the lock once it was shut, making sure Hank wouldn't sneak in at night. Sliding under the sheets, she let out a sigh, wishing that Misty had stayed with her all day. Cordelia let out a little shriek, feeling a hand slide across her hip.

"Delia shut up!" Misty laughed, biting her lip and pulling Cordelia closer to snuggle into her.

"W-what? How? I watched you leave." Her heart pounded in her chest as she took a deep breath, trying to get herself to relax into Misty's arms despite the rush of adrenaline.

"I guess Constance didn't tell ya that I literally can't leave tha house, I just make it so ya can't see me," She shrugged, resting her head on Cordelia's shoulder, "I just hang out around tha house but ya can't see me. And yea, I've watched ya shower before."

Cordelia let out a little laugh, trying to ignore the fact that she was snuggling with a spirit while her husband was probably passed out on the couch downstairs. "You're a perv," she teased, finally calming down. She sank into Misty's arms, wiggling deeper into the blonde, "You're a softie too. Do you snuggle with all your victims after you make them commit adultery?"

"Nah," Misty laughed lightly, "Just you."

Cordelia couldn't fight back a smile, heart skipping a beat. She shouldn't be enjoying this but she was. They talked lightly for a few more minutes before falling into a comfortable silence, Cordelia easily drifting off as Misty held her.

000

Cordelia awoke peacefully, lazily smiling as she felt Misty's arms still wrapped around her. She shifted, to turn and face Misty, but the sudden motion sent her stomach reeling and before she knew it she was racing to the bathroom. She fell to the ground, hands slapping the side of the toilet bowl as she gripped for her life and her stomach flipped, throat burning. Her stomach contracted, breath coming out in pants between bouts of vomiting.

"Delia?" Misty wandered into the bathroom, falling to her knees with Cordelia, rubbing the woman's back as she pulled back her hair. "Okay, hun, okay let it out." Her eyebrows were knitted together, a worried expression splayed across her face.

Cordelia slumped, breathing heavily when she finally emptied the contents of her stomach.

"Delia," Misty spoke gently, grabbing a towel and bringing it to Cordelia's damp forehead, "What was that?"

"I-I don't know?" She was too weak to get up, knees trembling as she leaned into the cold compress on her forehead. Then suddenly it hit her. "Misty what's today's date?"

Misty frowned, thinking for a moment, "I think it's October 5th?"

Cordelia sucked in a breath, eyes pricking with tears. She knew exactly what it was.


End file.
